


When the Dust Has Settled

by daggerpen



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:25:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4002343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daggerpen/pseuds/daggerpen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke and Anders in the aftermath of Legacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Dust Has Settled

**Author's Note:**

> For #anderspositive week on Tumblr. [Also has art](http://daggerpen.tumblr.com/post/119857109318/when-the-dust-has-settled-pairings-male)!

They bathed in a lake on the way back, rinsing off layers of caked on blood in the cold waters. Anders spoke, then, in a drained, low voice, the lot of them utterly exhausted but wary enough to heed his instructions. No one wanted to survive this whole mess only to die of Blight sickness, after all.

Anders was quiet the rest of the way back. Concerned as he was, Hawke elected not to push - Anders, no doubt, needed some space, and Hawke couldn’t say he wasn’t glad for some time to think, himself.

“I’m going to lie down,” Anders said - mumbled - when they finally returned to the Estate, halfheartedly shrugging off his outer coat. Hawke let him be at first. He took his time. Said his reluctant farewells to Bethany, changed out of his armor, read over his letters without taking in a word. He got as far as considering and electing against a light meal, before, tentatively, he knocked at the door of the bedroom they shared.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked.

“It’s your room,” Anders said tonelessly.

The mage was lying on the bed when Hawke entered, hair loose around his shoulders, staring miserably at the ceiling. Hawke approached cautiously, not wanting to crowd his lover. “Can I sit down?” he asked.

“It’s safe,” Anders replied quietly, not looking at him. “No… cravings for blood or whatever.”

“I don’t care if it’s _safe_ , I care if _you’re_ okay.” Hawke sat gingerly. “That wasn’t exactly fun for anyone, but if think you had even worse of a time than the rest of us.”

Anders shot him an incredulous look. “ _I_ did?” He pushed himself up. “I attacked you! You had to - to -”

“To knock very literal sense into you, yes, I _do_ remember that part.” He edged closer. “Which wasn’t your fault, you know. Or Justice’s, for that matter.”

“Wasn’t it?” Anders gave the wall a miserable look. “I invited it. You realize that, don’t you? I _wanted_ Justice to take over.” His hands found the edges of the blankets, worrying them between his fingers. “I thought… he was so strong, in the Fade. With that boy, Feynriel. It was… disturbing, but it was reassuring, too. Knowing that he would _never_ …”

“You wouldn’t have, either.”

“Maybe not. That’s not the point. The point is, I thought… I thought he’d be able to resist. When I was slipping. But he… _I_ … didn’t even see you. Just a target, like Corypheus wanted. I could have _killed_ you because I thought-”

“It’s not like the rest of us have never almost gotten us all killed with good intentions,” Hawke tried. When Anders only winced, Hawke sobered, reaching for a hand. “Anders - Anders, look at me. It wasn’t your fault. That Corypheus… no one could have seen any of that coming. Not Varric bringing us there. Not Bethany and me, running headlong into that trap. Not - well, okay, I guess the others were just kind of along for the ride, but that’s not the point. The point is, you were controlled. By an ancient Darkspawn magister of incredible power. That’s pretty firmly in the category of ‘things no one could reasonably be prepared against.’”

That seemed to help, at least a little. Tentatively, Anders took his hand, and the two found each other’s shoulders, Hawke’s free hand coming up to drag through Anders’ hair.

“... he really was, wasn’t he?” Anders said after a time.

“Hm?”

“A magister. One of the ones from the Black City.” Anders shook his head. “I thought… I don’t know. I _hoped_ it was a myth. That the Chantry was lying.”

“You’ve mentioned believing it before, haven’t you?” Hawke said carefully. “Was that just… politicking?”

Anders shrugged. “Not exactly. It never really occurred to me to question it, at first. Everything they throw at you in the Circle, it’s… it’s hard not to believe _any_ of it. But with that Thaig your expedition found, and some of the reading I’d done on the darkspawn, I started to wonder… The Tevinter version of the Chant disagrees, you know. It says the darkspawn were always there. Convenient for them, sure, but you can say the same thing about the Chantry here, can’t you? And I started to think, perhaps…” he fixed his eyes on his hands, wringing them in Hawke’s grasp. “But I guess they were right about this. And I keep thinking… what else were they right about?”

“Not you.”

“Aren’t they?” He pulled away. “Look at me. I can’t even control myself. I almost killed that girl. I go half mad whenever someone even _mentions_ templars. And now I even attacked _you_ -”

“That _wasn’t_ your fault,” Hawke repeated.

“What does fault matter? None of us ever asked for any of this.”

“What do you want me to say? That mages can be dangerous? Of course they can. But they’re - _you’re_ \- still people.” He straightened. “You want to talk about what the Chantry says? That the Blight was because of the magisters’ arrogance, but it’s magic that’s the problem? That magisters enslaved Andraste, so it’s all right to enslave innocent mages? That magic’s meant to serve man, so it needs to be locked away where no one but rich nobles can benefit? That mages can abuse their powers, so it’s all right for the templars to abuse them? It’s nonsense, you know it is, and _I_ shouldn’t have to tell _you_ that.”

Anders nodded slowly, seeming to consider his words. After a long moment, he let his head fall back, leaning into Hawke’s neck. “... those are… those are good arguments,” he murmured.

“Got them from the best,” Hawke replied.

“Mm.” Anders drew closer. “They’re a _little_ misquoted.”

“I’m not memorizing your entire bloody manifesto, love,” Hawke responded, and they both laughed at that.

“What have I _ever_ done to deserve you?” Anders asked.

“I mean, you _have_ been running a free clinic in the sewers for over three years now. I’m sure that has to net you _something_ ,” Hawke joked, which got a quiet laugh. More seriously, he continued, “You’ve never had to earn my love, Anders. You’re worthy just by being who you are.”

“It’s hard for me to believe that.”

“Then I’ll repeat it as often as you need.” He brushed his lips to Anders’, slow and gentle, and was relieved when the other man returned the kiss.

“I love you,” Anders said.

“Want a sandwich?” Hawke asked.

He was rewarded with a pillow to the face.


End file.
